


A Cold Wind Blowing

by LamiaCalls



Category: Hilda (Cartoon)
Genre: Gen, Halloween, Trick or Treat: Trick, Trick or Treating
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-07
Updated: 2020-11-07
Packaged: 2021-03-08 19:02:08
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,587
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27181510
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LamiaCalls/pseuds/LamiaCalls
Summary: Hilda, Frida and David go trick or treating, and encounter someone in a very impressive costume.
Relationships: David & Frida & Hilda (Hilda)
Comments: 8
Kudos: 40
Collections: Trick or Treat Exchange 2020





	A Cold Wind Blowing

**Author's Note:**

  * For [silveradept](https://archiveofourown.org/users/silveradept/gifts).



Hilda was quite proud of her outfit this year. The last Hallow’s Eve, she had been introduced to the very idea of costumes for the first time and it had been quite challenging. Her first instinct was to make an entire papier-mâché troll costume, but apparently Trolberg’s fear of trolls was so great that even pretending to be one had been outlawed. Something about an incident many years ago where a troll was able to do a lot more damage than it otherwise could have because everyone assumed it was just a really, really good dress-up.

She had ended up borrowing one of Frida’s old costumes, of the Great Raven. Frida was taller than her so it had ended up just looking silly, scraping along the ground. _Besides_ , the Great Raven wasn’t a monster so it was hardly scary.

This year, however, she had been prepared enough and her mum and she had spent a lot of time lovingly crafting a lindworm costume, with Twig, her deerfox, fitting neatly into the tail to add to the illusion. It was made of a silky material, and her mum had even managed to jimmy together a little contraption that allowed for smoke whenever Hilda blew through the mouthpiece. It was _wonderful_.

She met up with Frida and David after the sun had set.

“Whoah, you look _so_ cool, Frida,” Hilda exclaimed. Frida had glittering green makeup under her eyes that seemed to almost glow; her hair in pig tails on either side of her head and she was blowing bubble gum. She looked every part a Marra. David, on the other hand, was wrapped in black bin bags, with little strings and red diamantes. “Who are you meant to be David?”

“You told me to be something scary,” David said. “So I’m the Rat King!”

“Oooh,” Hilda said. She flicked one of the strings on his shoulder, on which a beetle had landed. “That _is_ spooky.”

“Thanks,” David said, rubbing his neck. “I forgot that we were doing this until about an hour ago. My mum helped me make it.”

“You’d never be able to tell,” Frida said brightly. “Come on, we better get moving if we want to get any of the good candy!”

***

The houses in Trolberg were surprisingly generous. Hilda had been amazed last year to find how many sweets and chocolates some people were willing to hand out, just for a costume, and she was no less pleased that night. They were practically dragging their bags along the pavement after only an hour. They passed many of the kids from their school as they went door to door; it seemed like all of Trolberg was out hunting for candy. Some of the costumes were…lacklustre, to say the best, but some were spectacular. Hilda even saw someone dressed as the Wood Man though, she had to admit, she couldn’t be entirely sure it wasn’t actually just the Wood Man taking advantage of the situation.

“Oh, don’t you three look good tonight? Even if…I don’t know _exactly_ what you’re meant to be,” said their Sparrow Scout leader. It was strange to see her out of the uniform, dressed instead in make-shift mummy garb of bandages and toilet roll over a black trouser and t-shirt.

“I’m a lindworm! And Frida’s a Marra, and David is the fearsome Rat King,” Hilda said.

“Uh…right, of course! Well, here, grab a handful. Just don’t forget you’re not allowed to bring any of this to the meeting tomorrow.”

As they walked away, passing two of their fellow Scouts on their way out of their leader’s garden, Hilda asked Frida, “Is there a reason she doesn’t let us bring our sweets with us?”

“One year, we were meant to bring all our sweets in to trade with each other,” David said. He shuddered. “It didn’t end well.”

“The fight were _vicious_ ,” Frida agreed. “And then the year after that, she let us bring it in as long as we promised not to swap it.”

“But then everyone ended up getting stomach ache and we couldn’t play any of the games she’d organised. Now we’re not allowed to bring it in at all.”

“It’s for the best,” Frida said, bringing her chin up. “If we can’t conduct ourselves with the dignity of a good Sparrow Scout, than we shouldn’t be afforded the luxuries of one.”

Hilda and David exchanged a look, but said nothing.

It was started to get cold, the chill October night catching up to them, and they were quickly running out of houses.

As they passed the next house — lights off, which, Frida had informed Hilda, meant the owners of the house didn’t want to be disturbed (not that some people seemed to respect that, Hilda noticed) — Hilda noticed a strange noise. She walked for a bit, following Frida and David as they turned the corner onto a darkened street. She turned, but saw nothing.

“What _is_ that?” Hilda asked.

“What’s what?” Frida said, stopping to turn and look too.

“That _hissing_ noise,” Hilda said. She paused, listening. There it was again: this time, with the sound of balls being shaken in a cup. She frowned. “Do you hear it?”

“Uhhh, guys?” David asked, a tremor in his voice. “Is it going to hurt us?”

“Don’t be silly, David,” Frida said. “It’s Hallow’s Eve. It’s probably just someone’s costume making a racket.”

“Hey, who’s out there?” Hilda called. The previous street had seemed so busy, but this one was almost empty, with high bushes on either side of them that obscured older looking houses. Frida had shown Hilda this part of town before — it was the Old Town region of Trolberg, and was many centuries older than the area Hilda and she lived in.

“Maybe we should head home,” David said quietly.

“Hey! Who’s out there?” Hilda called when she heard a distinct rustle in the nearby bush. “Come on out!”

“ _Hilda_ ,” David whispered urgently. “I don’t want it to come out if it’s going to hurt us!”

“ _We won’t hurt you_ ,” came a hissing, echoing sound, like many voices layered over each other. “ _We’re just here for trick or treating._ ”

David visibly exhaled. “Phew! You really had me scared for a moment there!”

“Uh, David,” Frida whispered, as the origin of the voice began to reveal itself.

From out behind one of the bushes, the writhing, many-tailed mass of the Rat King emerged. Its red eyes glared out into the night, and its body undulated with each individual rat’s movements. But it spoke in chorus.

“Whoah,” David said. “Your costume is almost as a good as mine!”

David approached the King. Frida and Hilda’s hands both went out to stop him, but David shrugged them off.

“It’s alright, it’s just a costume,” David said. Hilda was quite sure she’d never heard him with such confidence.

“ _Yessssss,_ ” the Rat King hissed. “ _We’re pleased by your reproduction of our splendour.”_

“How are you doing that with your voice?” David asked, circling the Rat King.

“ _David_ ,” Frida said, almost matching the Rat King’s high-pitched hiss. Hilda felt much the same, but could only watch, mostly agape.

“Is it a voice box?” David said. He reached out and touched the King, then sprang back. “Oh gross! You even feel alive. That’s so cool!”

“ _Thank you, David,”_ the Rat King said _. “I could even tell you the secret of how I got this costume to look so real…if you give me a secret in return.”_

“Huh, that’s just like the King! Hang on, let me think of something,” David said, his hand going to his chin.

“Alright, that really is enough now,” Frida said, looking at Hilda, panic in her eyes.

“Uh, David, I realised we missed a house, a few streets back,” Hilda said quickly. “Thank you so much for your time, Rat King, but we really ought to be going.”

“ _Oh really?_ ” the Rat King said, many of its tails flicking. “ _What a shame. Perhaps you’ll come visit me another time_.”

“Sure, do you go to our school?”

“David! Come on,” Frida said. This time she took a hold of his arm quite forcefully, and began to lead him away. Hilda jogged to catch up.

“Bye!” she called back, as they rounded the corner.

“Gosh,” David said, a grin on his face. “Normally, I’m the wimp, but you two were so scared back there. You know it’s just a costume, right? He wasn’t the real Rat King!”

“Actually—“

“Uh, David,” Frida said quickly, interrupting Hilda with a withering look. “Yeah, I don’t want came over me. Guess it was just too realistic.”

Hilda blinked, then caught on.

“Yeah, it was the voice thing it was doing,” Hilda said. “Too scary for me.”

“Come on then,” David said pleasantly, a little bit of a spring in his step. “Show me which house we missed then.”

“Right,” Hilda said slowly.

“You know, I think we might have made a mistake. Fear addling the brain and all that! Look, it’s getting late and very cold. My parents will be expecting me home any minute.”

“You’re right,” Hilda said. “Plus, I want to get into all of these sweets before bed.”

“Good idea!” David said. As they began to walk in the direction of their homes, David said cheerfully, chuckling to himself: “Don’t worry. I won’t tell anyone about you being scared by a guy in a costume!”

“…Thanks, David,” Frida said. She shook her head and shared a wry smile with Hilda.


End file.
